Henry 4: Mess with the master at your peril

Henry 4
Bell Shakespeare
Canberra Theatre Centre, The Playhouse, 27 Feb - 9 Mar 2013

The point of Shakespeare’s history plays is that they are written about specific people at precise times and for explicit reasons – the clue is in the name really. So, while I appreciate Bell Shakespeare’s decision to condense Henry IV Parts One and Two into a three hour version, I fear they have lost a lot more than they have gained by this treatment.

The set of milk crates in a Union Jack formation, while effective visually and contextually – it is broken apart to allow characters to enter and depart – is an instant anachronism, as the first union flag of England and Scotland was not created until 200 years after Henry IV’s death. Instantly the entire power struggles, righteous rebellions and questionable route to claiming kingship is rendered irrelevant. Later lines, such as the usually gut-wrenching, “How I came by the crown, God forgive me. Plain and right must my possession be”, and “Lord knows what crooked way I have earned this crown”, are robbed of all potency.

At the interval, many of the young adults in the audience (I went to a matinee plagued with school groups) were asking each other what it was all about and did anyone know what was happening? Well might they ask, because most of the battle tactics, political and historical aspects are mercilessly cut leaving a hollow mess.

Harry Hotspur (Jason Klarwein), rather than being a worthy and brave opponent over whose dead body Prince Hal (Felix Jozeps) intones, “Fare thee well, great heart”, becomes a subject of ridicule. He is portrayed in commando gear; a macho action man, well-built and crass, whom Hal mimics and affords no respect. Hotspur’s impatience is translated as childish petulance and his banishment of his wife from his bed implied to be from homosexual motives and steroid use.

Although Henry IV (David Whitney) uses Jerusalem as a battle hymn, the fight with knives, chains and lead piping has no dignity. The attempt to link the Percy Rebellion or Northern Rising with the Cronulla Riots is cheap and illogical. Similarly Falstaff’s (John Bell) edited discourse on honour loses all impact because there is nothing glorious with which to contrast his cowardly actions. The lack of regal motivation is woefully absent and the speeches are bereft of any beauty and nobility.

So, what does remain? Director (and adaptor) John Bell seems to want to focus on the coming of age of Prince Hal from playboy Prince to shining ruler. There are two problems here. Firstly, the taverns of Cheapside and the company of Falstaff, Mistress Quickly (Wendy Strehlow) et al are meant to be attractive. There is nothing enticing about the pole-dancing joints and dingy bubble-wrap covered sofas and bus seats in which the young prince carouses. The tavern scenes are drenched in booze and debauchery and are tawdry and dull rather than appealing.

The rubber gloves and plunger favoured by Mistress Quickly are indicative of the proverbial bargepole with which one wouldn’t want to touch Sir John Falstaff – embodied here as a disgusting and greasy old rocker shambling about in an ill-fitting waistcoat. If he is meant to offer an alternative father figure of fun for Prince Hal, it is an extremely unattractive one.

The other problem is that is hard to believe in Prince Hal’s kingly qualities. In this performance he was played by an understudy and perhaps the original casting (of Matthew Moore) was much stronger. Felix Jozeps was cast as Boy (amongst other roles) and this would have suited him far better. He acts like the irritating adolescent in the Zits cartoon strip – all lanky limbs, floppy hair, ill-bred mannerisms and self-entitlement. When Henry IV berates his son, the king is far more dynamic than either character had been in the previous foreshadowing scene between Hal and Falstaff. With his feet on the sofa and slouching posture Hal is awkward in front of his father, and King Henry IV literally walks rings around him.

King Henry IV is harsh, bold and unfriendly, surrounded by men in suits who think his son is a waster – and they’re right. Prince Hal may want his father’s love and respect, but he doesn’t go out of his way to earn it. In his army costume and beret he looks like a Thunderbird puppet, and his hugging and hogging of the crown during his father’s death scene is pathetic rather than potent.

Hal’s eventual denouncement of Falstaff seems petty and vindictive rather than necessary for the health and future of the nation. We are not chilled as we should be when Falstaff claims, “The laws of England are at my commandment” because we haven’t been led to believe that the stakes are particularly high. Neither is there anything revealed in the portrayal of Prince Hal to indicate that he will “imitate the sun” and “show more goodly, and attract more eyes/ Than that which hath no foil to set it off.” It is impossible that this sullen teenager will become one of England’s greatest ever monarchs.

The production contains some excellent acting – namely Sean O’Shea who has crisp delivery as Shallow, and Yalin Ozucelik who brings a much-needed amicability to the loyal companion character of Poins. The frenetic band, incorporated into the action with the drummer seated on stage also enhances the pace of the action, but the direction is inconsistence with a muddle of metaphors.

The integrity of the ambushed fight scene is weakened by the introduction of German tourists for cheap laughs. Shallow and Silence are supposedly watching football (or soccer, as Australians insist on calling it, although the flags are totally wrong) adding unnecessary business to detract from their speech as though they are worried that the plot alone cannot hold the audience’s attention. The overall effect is as though the company don’t trust the words, even adding modern speech to the policemen and making lame reference to slices of lime in necks of corona bottles for the line, “There’s lime in this sack”.

Messing with the rhythms and beauty of Shakespeare’s language is practically criminal. Primary school viewers may enjoy the match the pictures to the words approach, but Bell Shakespeare are guilty of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

Friday Five: Figurative Flowers

5 Emblematic Blooms:

Remembrance poppies at the Australian War Memorial

1. Poppy – The symbol of sleep, peace and death. Sleep because of the opium extracted from them and death because of their blood-red colour. Memorable images include the magical poppy field in L. Frank Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz in which Dorothy are chums are almost lulled to eternal sleep, and the blood red blooms on Flanders’ fields that recall more than a million sacrifices. Lest we forget.
2. Red Rose – UK Labour Party; House of Lancaster; England Rugby; socialism; romantic love – combined with the white rose of York to become the Tudor Rose and national flower of England. With its combination of powerful scent, dramatic beauty and viscous thorns, it is beloved of playwrights and poets form Shakespeare and Robert Burns to Gertrude Stein and Poison.
3. Daffodil – Wales and the Cancer Society. As daffodils are part of the narcissus family, they also represent vanity. Appearing at spring in the Northern hemisphere, the yellow daffodil is associated with new beginnings and particularly Easter (the German word for daffodil is ‘Osterglocke’, meaning Easter bell). Thanks to William Wordsworth’s (in)famous poem, it also represents The Lake District for many.
4. Sunflower – Honesty; Happiness; Faith; Adoration; Vegan Society; Cancer Support – individually they are remarkable and together they are glorious. From the fields of gold the cyclists ride past in the Tour de France to Van Gogh’s crazy brilliant blooms or Ai Weiwei’s Tate/Unliever-commissioned sculpture of ten tonnes of porcelain seed husks, they have stunning visual impact. It was thought that the sunflower (girasol) turns its head to follow the sun until sixteenth-century romance-busting botanist John Gerard pointed out this was only true of the immature buds but the adult plants grew out of it. Despite that, this is still a beautiful flower quote from the film Calendar Girls:

   "The flowers of Yorkshire are like the women of Yorkshire. Every stage of their growth has its own beauty, but the last phase is always the most glorious. Then very quickly they all go to seed. Which makes it ironic my favourite flower isn't even indigenous to the British Isles, let alone Yorkshire. I don't think there's anything on this planet that more trumpets life that the sunflower. For me that's because of the reason behind its name. Not because it looks like the sun but because it follows the sun. During the course of the day, the head tracks the journey of the sun across the sky. A satellite dish for sunshine. Wherever light is, no matter how weak, these flowers will find it. And that's such an admirable thing. And such a lesson in life."

5. Forget-me-Not – True love; Faithfulness; Remembrance; Freemasonry; Alzheimer’s Association – Henry IV adopted the flower as a symbol of his exile in 1398. It grows madly in English spring gardens and woodlands, particularly by riverbanks as it prefers moist habitats and can tolerate partial sun and shade. I love the delicate little blooms and the subtle fragrance which develops in the evenings although they have little scent during the day, and I incorporated it into my bridal bouquet.

Fantastic Falstaff

Congratulations to Roger Allam, who won the Best Actor Olivier Award 2011 for his portrayal of Falstaff in the Dominic-Dromgoole-directed Henry IV Parts 1 and 2.

Of course, the fact that I saw these shows at the Globe Theatre when I was home in England last year makes me especially happy. Although I knew they were excellent at the time, it never does any harm to have that opinion validated by so-called experts.

I feel honoured to have been able to see such great work, which was both thought-provoking and thoroughly enjoyable. I still think of it six months later and crave the opportunity to see such stirling theatre on a regular basis.

Be Merry, My Friends, Be Merry

The Merry Wives of Windsor
Shakespeare's Globe Theatre
August - October 2010

The Merry Wives of Windsor rounds out the trio of ‘Falstaff plays’. Whether or not it is true that Queen Elizabeth I commissioned the play because she wanted to see ‘the fat knight in love’ is a moot point (not least because he never is actually in love, apart from with himself and his own advancement) but the tone is certainly lighter than the previous two parts of Henry IV.

It may best be described as a mixture between an early rom-com and a blatant farce, with a main plot and another couple of subplots both hindering and enhancing the action. Running out of money, Sir John Falstaff (Christopher Benjamin) attempts to win the affection of a wealthy mistress and sends identical letters to Mistress Ford (Sarah Woodward) and Mistress Page (Serena Evans) with the intention of seducing them into bed and out of their fortunes. When they discover his plan they easily outwit him, pretending to go along with his adulterous intentions only for him to be ‘discovered’ unless he escapes in humiliating ways (hidden in a laundry basket and subsequently dumped in The Thames or disguised as the witch of Brentford who is soundly beaten by her enemies).

Page and Ford react very differently to the news that someone is trying to court their wife. Page (Michael Garner) is trusting enough to dismiss the rumours, while Ford (Andrew Havill) works himself into a jealous rage, with moments of impotent anger taken straight from the Basil Fawlty acting book. Added to this is the delectable and dimpled Anne Page (Ceri-Lyn Cissone) with a couple of unsuitable suitors (Slender and Doctor Caius) and one true love (Fenton). Slender (William Belchambers) is delightfully effeminate and her father’s choice; Dr Caius (Philip Bird) is outrageously French and her mother’s choice; Fenton (Gerard McCarthy) is charming, handsome and the obvious choice; and Mistress Quickly (Sue Wallace) is the meddling wench who tries to ‘help’ them all.

Falstaff thinks he is irresistible to women despite the fact that he is grotesquely overweight and old – somehow Benjamin’s embodiment of this and his descriptions of his humiliations make him warm and loveable rather than arrogant and offensive. He is also somewhat diminished by Mistresses Ford and Page who prove to be more than a match for him. Woodward and Evans are both excellent in their distinction between acting and overacting when they are ‘caught out’ in the presence of the would-be Lothario. Their girlish scheming is a joy to watch and their daring antics could teach those whey-faced desperate housewives a thing or two.

This is a brilliant play for sharing with the audience; we are in on the joke as in the best cases of farce and dramatic irony. The stage (design by Janet Bird) is set with a walkway through the crowd which turns into a forest where Falstaff faces his final persecution, or an attractive suburban garden complete with picket fence and love seat – audience members must dodge to avoid a soaking from the watering can. Sue Wallace sits boldly on the steps and chats with the theatregoers which reminds me I know her as Auntie Pam from Coronation Street.

Physical comedy is to the fore and there are guffaws rather than titters, although the double entendres cause a few giggles. Much has been made of the fact that this play was almost written for television a good three hundred years before that device was invented. It is big and bold and very beautiful with Tudor costumes and themes – no attempt has been made to place it in another context which only adds to its strength. The music underpins the entire production as the musicians perform their curious instruments on stage, adding comic value, heightening the melodrama or providing a sweet accompaniment to the duet between Anne Page and Fenton – bless their hearts.

It’s not subtle or deep – it doesn’t explore the human condition – but it doesn’t pretend to. It intends to entertain and in this it certainly achieves its intention. It’s easy to follow, the themes are familiar and you don’t have to think too much. This is Shakespeare for beginners, performed and directed by consummate professionals.

Henry IV, Part Two: Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

Henry IV, Part Two

Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre
July 3 – October 3, 2010

‘Does anyone ever do Henry IV, Part Two by itself?’ asks my dad after we emerge from Dominic Dromgoole’s most excellent sequel at The Globe. Probably not, because although it is a superlative historical drama, it follows on from Part One too comfortably to stand alone.

Prince Hal (Jamie Parker) is still unsure where he fits in life; like Prince Charles, his job is to wait for his monarch-parent to die. The moment when Hal thinks this has happened is shockingly powerful and moving as he has the temerity to touch the crown, only to then stand silent and chastised as his father (Oliver Cotton) remonstrates with him.

Falstaff (Roger Allam) is still a powerful coward full of bombast and bravado. Age and the law are catching up with him, however, and he is slightly more contemplative as he realises he has no true friends and may have only a lonely dotage ahead of him. He tries to shrug off such reflections with cheap tricks and ale but the merry-making seems forced. We understand why actors relish the role of Falstaff and why he is the only one of Shakespeare’s characters to get his own spin-off play, but also when Hal and his ‘shadow’ Poins (Danny Lee Wynter) tire of him, it is easier to share their disillusionment than in Part One.

The tavern scenes are exquisitely executed, from the distressed Mistress Quickly (Barbara Marten) who is simply trying to make a profit and avoid ‘swaggerers’ while her husband nonchalantly smokes his pipe on the balcony, to the vigorous slapstick humour of Doll Tearsheet (Jade Williams). She proves adept at physical comedy as she hurls herself (in more ways than one) across the stage –let’s just say the groundlings at the front get slightly more than they bargained for.

There are yet more politics and manoeuvres in this second part of the trilogy and they continue to be expressed with intelligence and clarity. A particularly Machiavellian piece of skulduggery reveals Hal’s younger brother John of Lancaster (Joseph Timms) in a not-entirely-honourable light. He is steadfast and practical, however, and more like a stereotypical older brother who gets the job done without any of Hal’s shenanigans, of which he clearly disaproves.

William Gaunt is quite brilliant as the doddering old Shallow bringing humour to what could otherwise be quite tedious scenes of choosing soldiers, and providing such much-needed lightness as the tone darkens. He is delightfully shambolic and his double act with Silence played by Christopher Godwin is the best I’ve seen since Morecambe and Wise.

With the death of his father, Prince Hal becomes King Henry V and his return to the stage (he is absent for three-quarters of the play) makes it shine anew. Although he claims, ‘This new and gorgeous garment, majesty/ Sits not so easy on me as you think’, he does in fact assume the mantle with aplomb. And when he rejects Falstaff at the conclusion, we are not as sad as we might be because we know it would be disastrous if, as the dissolute knight has boasted, ‘the laws of England are at my commandement’.

The new king reveals a glimpse of the old playboy when he promises he will reward Falstaff and his companions with advancement, but assures them it will only be ‘as we hear you do reform yourselves’ and not purely through nepotism. Already he is proving to be an adherent to fairness and justice – the audience can once again leave on a high knowing the (past) future of England is in good hands.

Henry IV, Part One: Buzzing on the Banks of the Thames

Henry IV, Part One

Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre
July 8 – October 3, 2010

Dominic Dromgoole’s production of Henry IV, Part One at The Globe is sensitive and rambunctious; traditional and contemporary; and overall compelling viewing. It ranges from royalty to riff-raff; battlefields to brothels; city to countryside and high politics to low humour, and all of it is immensely entertaining.

The play examines the troubled relationship between sons and their fathers (both real and surrogate), and the nature of friendship as it alters with power, responsibility and age. Prince Hal has diametrically opposed father-figures, although he eventually rejects both of them, ‘breaking through the foul and ugly mists’ to emerge blazing as his own man.

I’ve always thought the part of Henry IV was a bit ineffective but Oliver Cotton delivers his conscience-wrestling quandary with dignity, sincerity and a great command of the language. On the other hand, there is the irrepressible Roger Allam as Falstaff. Falstaff is an unashamed scene stealer, milking every nuance to just the right extent, working his audience like a stand-up comedian so that we feel part of the show. He is morally reprehensible with a terrible attitude to life and impeccable comic timing. Whether he is exaggerating his part in a duel or delivering an in-depth and unfavourable analysis of honour – musing on philosophy as he casually devours a tub of ice-cream – he is a joy to witness.

The fact that Allam doesn’t dominate the entire play, however, is due to the comprehensive direction and the brilliance of the other characters. Jamie Parker has made me fall in love with Prince Hal and Henry IV, Part One all over again. From the moment he emerges from a trapdoor with his pants around his ankles and a twinkle in his eye, his conflict of self-interest is fantastic. The trading of insults with Falstaff is sublime: if only pub slanging matches were so witty. Hal maintains his irreverent sense of fun even as he matures before our eyes through the course of the play.

He can be noble and resolute and not afraid to shirk responsibility when it falls upon him. He knows what will be expected of him, and is itching to get down to the job. He mocks his father when he imitates him in a pub, but he defends him bravely in battle and foreshadows his steely rejection of Falstaff, ‘like bright metal on sullen ground’. The opposing natures of the young prince are both excellently explored. Will the real Prince Hal please stand up? I desperately want him to play Henry V – I’d follow him into a breach any time.

Hal also has to contend with Harry (Hotspur) Percy as a model of valour. Sam Crane indulges his fiery nature to provoke humour but also respect. He may be all-too prepared to fight for his beliefs, but at least he has some. Glendower (Sean Kearns) tries to restrain him with a steady hand and a mellifluous voice, but Hotspur remains tempestuous. He may be heated in battle, but lacks passion in his domestic relationships, much to the frustrated chagrin of his wife, Kate (Lorna Stuart). She behaves a little as though she is auditioning for The X-Factor and is too focussed on herself to interact with the others, although once again, you can hear every word that she intones.

The play (and its sequel) contain a good deal of principles and affairs of state, but the scenes are acted so well and spoken so clearly that you are never lost in the potential mire that could be English ‘War of the Roses’ history. Politics are given edge (literally) in sword fights and tavern scenes. The set, designed by Jonathan Fensom, incorporates rustic qualities as minimal touches elicit maximum effect. Heraldic banners hang from all the banisters and a simple backcloth unfurls to denote our locations, from the Boar’s Head tavern to the battle encampment or the King’s bedchamber. It is a delight and an honour to experience this production in its spiritual home.

It may be a traditional production in period dress but don’t be fooled into thinking it is sedate. It is infused with high energy from the riotous mummers’ performance at the beginning to the sardonic dance at the end which sends the audience out buzzing to the banks of the Thames. Music and singing enhances the play throughout with musicians augmenting the slick scene changes to ensure the action never flags.